Teenage Angst
by Kirinki
Summary: Harry lies in bed, thinking about his feelings for Ron. Updated- how Harry's feelings affect his life. And now a chapter with Ron's POV. Slashy.
1. Teenage Angst

Disclaimer: not mine. All characters and locations are creations of JK Rowling. Suing is pointless, as I have nothing worth taking.  
  
A/N: this story is slash. In case you don't know, that's a story with a male/male pairing. Inexplicit, but if it's not you thing, kindly hit the back button now. Set on Harry and Ron's first night back at Hogwart's in fifth year.  
  
  
  
Harry was lying awake in bed, thinking. It was his first night back at Hogwart's, and he had a lot on his mind. Well, one thing in particular- Ron. Recently, he has started to feel… differently towards him. Like whenever he was close to him, he wanted to reach out and touch him. Very similar, in fact, to how he felt about Cho. These thoughts worried him- surely there was something wrong with him? He had heard what Uncle Vernon said about this sort of thing; he described them as 'poofs', in the same way he would use the word 'scum'. He spoke about them in the same way he spoke about wizardry, and this frightened Harry. Did these feelings towards Ron mean he was deviant, abnormal? Also, and this scared him even more, he knew Ron could never share these feelings, that it was all one-sided. He knew, even though Ron didn't seem to, that it was Hermione Ron wanted. He knew that he was never going to feel good about this situation- it made him feel tainted, a freak. Yet, it seemed so natural to him to feel this way. But he didn't understand how he could want both Ron and Cho. Harry was hopelessly confused, and didn't know how to deal with how he felt. It seemed impossible to him how he could be attracted to both girls and boys at the same time. The two seemed incompatible, and his guilt about his feelings towards Ron was definitely not helping. He thought of Ron, with his unswerving loyalty towards anything he cared for. Everything about him seemed to Harry to be everything he ever wanted in a… partner? Lover? What? He didn't know what he wanted any more, how he felt, anything. All he knew was that the person he wanted most was completely unattainable to him.  
  
Sighing, Harry turned over onto his stomach and pulled the covers over his head. "Try to sleep", he thought to himself. "Then you won't think about…this." He eventually fell asleep, relieved to have his pain dulled, but dreading its inevitable return the next day. 


	2. I Want The One I Can't Have

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry, Ron or Voldemort, or the Ministry. Lucy Gray belongs to Wordsworth and is taken from the poem "Lucy Gray" which incidentally is a lovely poem. Go read. Megan is mine though. Please don't sue, particularly as I don't have anything worth taking. Slashy themes (themes of a homosexual nature) so if you don't like that, don't read. Feedback appreciated.  
  
  
  
The war with Voldemort is over, and Harry is twenty-seven now. He has been married for three years, to Lucy Gray, who was Muggle-born, and had a two year old daughter called Megan. He was free from danger for the first time in his life, he had a family, and a well-paid job at the Ministry. Yet, Harry was still not happy with his life. He found his wife attractive, and maybe even loved her as a friend, but he did not truly desire her. There was someone else he loved: Ron. His best friend. The adolescent confusion he had suffered had been replaced by a repulsed clarity- Harry now realised that he was bisexual, but the homophobia he had been brought up with had made him unable to deal with it. So he dealt with it by not dealing with it- he simply ignored it, hoped that it would go away. He had never admitted to Ron how he felt, partly due to his shame and self-disgust, and also due to his resigned despair that his feelings could never be reciprocated. So he had done the only thing he could think of: covered it up, married an attractive woman, had children, and got a respectable job in the Ministry. He tried to bury his feelings underneath a veneer of normality and respectability.  
  
However, he failed to hide anything from himself. He knew his marriage was a sham: the emptiness he felt as he kissed and embraced Lucy cut deeply every time. He was filled with pain every time he was hit with how loveless and meaningless his marriage was. The guilt at his bisexuality also tore him apart- not just because of his shame at such 'unnatural' feelings, but also because he hated deceiving Lucy. She truly loved him and he knew just how unfair he was being to her by remaining married to her. If they split up then she could go and find someone who would really love her, and not just feel friendship for her. He found her attractive, but he couldn't love her as long as he felt as he did about Ron. He despaired at how his life had turned out. This wasn't how it was meant to be. How had he ended up like this- trapped in a meaningless marriage he could see no way out of, and in love with someone totally unattainable? For he could not see any way out: if he left Lucy, he would tear her apart- he may not love her, but he did care about her and did not want to hurt her. Besides, he adored Megan, the only good thing he could see about his life.  
  
Harry resigned himself to a life of repression and without mutual love. He knew that, if he was to keep up the 'respectable, normal' image, he needed to. His emotions dulled and became almost nothing, except for his love of Ron, which remained as sharp, intense and painful as ever, reminding him constantly of what he had missed out on in his life. 


	3. Taste In Men

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters belong to JK Rowling, except Lucy Gray, who belongs to William Wordsworth.  
  
A/N: Today was a coming of age for me- I got my first flame! *sniff * I feel so proud… Anyway, I decided that it was now time for Ron's POV to be put forward (ok Mel, so it was your idea first) so here it is.  
  
  
  
Harry's in love with me, and has been for years. He doesn't realise I know, but how could I not? I see it every time he looks at me. I can tell how miserable he is, that he doesn't really love Lucy. Everything had been designed as part of a cover-up of how he really feels, a part of himself he is ashamed of. And, in a way, I can understand why.  
  
Me? Well, I'm happily married to Hermione, to the surprise of absolutely no one- right from when we were kids, it was obvious that we were going to end up together. We were already acting as if we were married, the fights from nothing, in particular when she went to the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum were testament to that.  
  
However, Harry's unhappiness is marring my own happiness with Hermione. I know the only thing that will stop him from hurting I that if I declare love for him and fall into his arms, but that's never going to happen- I just don't feel that for him. It hurts me that there really is nothing I can do to help him, as he is my best friend. I know I am not able to love him in the way he wants me to, but he is still important to me, I do still care about him. My inability to help him upsets me- yet there really is nothing I can do. I love Hermione, I'm not gay. So what can I do? I feel so helpless and useless, and I realise that this is something that is going to be ever present but never discussed- something which is slowly but surely poisoning our lives, and yet we will simply ignore it and let it remain a malignant force within our lives. However, I see no other way, and know that I will simply leave Harry to his pain, helpless to ease it, and tear myself up with the guilt it will cause in my life. 


	4. The Struggle Within

Disclaimer: I own nothing. All characters, apart from Lucy Gray, belong to JK Rowling. Lucy belongs to William Wordsworth (I'm just borrowing the name).  
  
Warning: contains slash. If this isn't your thing, please hit the back button. Flamers will be mocked. Also contains references to character death.  
  
  
  
Harry sat slumped in his armchair, staring into space. His wife had died a month ago and he missed her; despite the loveless nature of their relationship, she had been a very close friend. He sighed, thinking of her and the times they had together. . He felt very alone now; he didn't see Megan very often now either, as she had married and moved away, but she still kept in contact with him as they had always been very close; Lucy, the one thing in his life Harry felt he had gotten completely right.  
  
  
  
Another person who meant a lot to him had also died: Ron. He had passed away just under a year ago. Harry had never confessed his feelings to him. This thought was tinged with sadness- if he had told Ron, maybe he wouldn't be feeling as he did now; full of pain, loneliness and regret. He knew he would have still outlived the people who were important to him, but maybe the admission of how he felt, no matter how Ron had taken it, would have eased his torment now  
  
However, it was too late. Overwhelmed by grief and regret, all Harry could do was to stare blankly into space, thinking of all the missed opportunities and mistakes in his life, and feeling the pain of the knowledge that it was now too late to do anything about it. 


End file.
